


Nightmare In The Masterpiece

by DiavenraNesus



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Creepy Fucks, F/M, Mentions of Death, OC's for the sake of plot, Stalking, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-01-20 00:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiavenraNesus/pseuds/DiavenraNesus
Summary: Although the world of Exorcists has broadly accept half-demons among their ranks, some are not happy with that decision. A small group of them has made it their aim to kill anyone with ties to demons, putting your fiancé on their hit list. This incident sets off a number of events, driving you right into the arms of the Illuminati where you are meant to start a new life; a life that ends entirely too soon.





	1. O, Beautiful World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're back at your old job as an Exorcist, although this time solely working behind the desk, when you're confronted with some unpleasant acquaintances, making it necessary to be comforted by the one man you love.

If there was one phrase you deeply despised it would be ‘boys will be boys’, which was more often than not used when someone was talking about being harassed or flat out abused by one of the male gender. Not only was it off putting and plain out rude, it also often put the blame on the victim rather than the tormentor.

It would be hypocritical of you to claim that this was your point with this phrase all along. To be honest, you hadn’t paid much mind to it because such a behavior was often associated with guys and rarely frowned upon, at most it got them a glare and a shaking head but not more. The same was with people saying that others 'were asking for it’, usually referring to scantily clad women after they’ve been raped.

It wasn’t that you agreed with them but you also didn’t necessarily disagree or did anything to change others’ minds about this.

That only changed after you had your own dosage of unwelcome attention. Up to that point, a part of you had continued to firmly believe that all you had to say was “no” to get rid of someone, which only served to show how lucky and ultimately privileged you had been thus far in your life.

But matters turned as you came back to the True Cross Order.

Becoming an exorcist had never been on your bucket list of things to achieve in your time on earth but in a rather fateful fit of teenage rebellion, you had managed to get enrolled into the Academy and later also into Cram School.

No success was supposed to stem out of that aside from showing your parents that you were mature and old enough to make your own decisions but as you returned from your first mission in which you had held an active part on completing it, for some reason you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face. It was in that moment that you felt at home and realized that this is what you were meant to do all along.

Naturally, your parents were anything but happy about that outcome but given that your grades were able to support you completely and you lived in the dorms of the Academy, there wasn’t much they could do about it.

However, the one person you didn’t expect to be mad at you was your best friend, Daimu Honda. You weren’t able to recall at time when he had seriously been mad at you. Disappointed or not pleased over something you did, sure. But mad to the point that he was yelling at you, effectively scaring you in the process and giving you the cold shoulder for several months? No, that was a new thing entirely. As was the complete fall out of your friendship.

It would take up to several years of you to rebuild the trust you once had for each other and start being best friends again. But just as life would have it, you were now so much more, leading into awkward encounters, a rushed confession and ultimately finding out that the reason why he had been so mad was him facing the very real fact of losing you, which had been amplified by realizing his crush on you.

That crush had turned into falling in love, making him first your boyfriend and, as for almost 8 months, your fiancé.

You had finished the training as an Exorcist shortly after the friendship with Daimu had ended and while you still enjoyed defeating demons and protecting civilians, you had lost the passion for it, as you had done for pretty much everything. There was something very life draining about losing the one friend you had known since forever.

The reason why you had finally quit being an Exorcist was your lack of passion had resulted in you being less focused and therefore coming very close to almost being killed. Your superiors made it obvious that they would stand around and wait for you to kill yourself and left you with the choice to either leave or handle all the paperwork from the inside of one of their many offices, far away from any potential threats.

You had turned them down, too embarrassed with the way your promising career had turned out to even consider their offer.

Past you might have scolded you for coming back and begging on your knees for the job you had once declined but anyone seeing you at that day, years after they had last seen you and looking like a completely different person now that you had the support of the one person that only ever mattered, would tell another story altogether. There was nothing pathetic about you approaching your former superiors about a job, if anything you were oozing confidence from all of your cells, because you had your light back and resembled much more the Exorcist with the promising career than you had ever done in active duty.

This was the beginning of a beautiful story of a woman reclaiming her life with love supporting her but anyone who had ever said that love was the strongest thing known to the world had never experienced true hate.

You weren’t naive enough to believe that your life would now be perfect but you had to admit, you also didn’t think it would be this bad.

One thing that you missed a lot from your active days was the uniform. Yes, it was a pain in the ass when it was even remotely warm due it being made of a very thick material in order to successfully protect the Exorcists, and you had always been envious of Shura to be skilled enough to survive without it, but another thing it had done was to hide your body.

For some reason as few as Shura was wearing no one ever dared to make a move on her but the second you changed from uncomfortable uniform to more comfortable business attire, you found yourself often saying 'Eyes are up here’. The thing was, you weren’t even wearing something remotely sexy or daring, it just accentuated your curves as would do anything that wasn’t the damn uniform or baggy clothing.

In general, people apologized to you if you caught them staring at the valley of your breasts instead of your eyes. Aside from one group of mixed Exorcists, that is.

Even before they had taken an interest in you, they had grabbed your attention in an unpleasant way.

Something that Daimu had kept from you for a long while was his demonic heritage, which also resulted in him getting mad at you after starting your training, believing now that you would never be able to accept this secret of his.

This was another thing that had to be cleared up once you started to rebuild your former relationship and you explained that being born a half-demon wasn’t reason enough for the Order to hunt you, only if you had done something that violated their rules. In fact, half-demons were broadly accepted among their ranks.

At the point when you had told him this, the thought of anti-groups regarding this regulation had mainly been theoretical; you had never encountered anyone that was hateful towards another because of this. But then you happened to come across that particular group.

You had first taken notice of them as one of your colleagues was charged of disciplinary issues and they weren’t even willing to listen to her story but thought they had the right to talk about her anyway. For them, the case was closed as soon as they found out that her father had been a demon and they started to speak in vile tongues.

“Of course, she’s a mixed blood. How couldn’t she?”

“This just proves that they shouldn’t be allowed to enter the Order.”

“I hope the Grigori will sentence her to death.”

Even after it had been proven that the colleague had been falsely accused, they didn’t relent on their opinion. If anything it grew stronger, or you had just started to listen to it more intently.

Whatever it was, you had thanked the Lord that your interactions with them were restricted to a bare minimum, only having to ask for the occasional signature here and there by one of their members; that was until they went out of their way to come into contact with you.

You didn’t know what had caused the switch in their behavior but now they were trying to get into your personal space with all of their invading questions, lingering touches and claiming that your fiancé - you had thought they would stop once they knew you were in a committed relationship; they didn’t - wouldn’t be able to treat you as good as they would.

It wasn’t just one or two of their group doing this but every member, regardless of their gender, and their need to tell you about Daimu’s unworthiness of you increased massively after they figured out that he was a half-demon.

At first, their glances had just made you uncomfortable, making you wish to have as less contact with them as possible but after the discovery of Daimu’s heritage, there was a dangerous glint in their eyes that made you fear for him.

Naturally, you had tried to report them but the only reply you got from your superiors was the godforsaken phrase of 'boys will be boys’, that you should be thankful for the attention given your looks and that you shouldn’t make that much of a fuss. It seemed that everyone in charge of anything had been replaced by douchebags or assholes, making you utterly irritated by their decision to not take you seriously.

The group, now aware that they wouldn’t have to face any kind of punishment, amplified their actions and seemed to be in your field of vision whenever you raised your head. The uncomfortableness had long vanished and was replaced by dread as they resembled more and more stalkers than colleagues who overstepped lines.

It made a pep-talk from yourself and Daimu an absolute necessity before going to work because their behavior had made you anxious enough to experience panic attacks several times a week.

Being the sweetheart that your fiancé was he had taken it up to himself to send you encouraging and kind messages while you were at work, which was what you were staring at right now.

A smile spread on your lips as you read his words, accompanied by one of the cute stickers he had especially downloaded for this purpose, and the promise to cook your favorite dish for dinner once you 'survived the assholes’. The rising feeling of being overwhelmed had immediately shut down by him and he didn’t even had to be physically around you.

Knowing that your love thought of you gave you new strength and you turned to your laptop again, working on another assignment by Sir Pheles. You managed to block out all of your surroundings, focusing completely on your work in order to not let any negative feelings take over until you were home, and by thus failing to see that one of the group’s members had seen this.

It didn’t take a genius to know who had made you this happy, and even if you weren’t engage to a filthy mixed blood, anyone making you happy that wasn’t them was simply unacceptable.

Her expression turned dark as she turned around on her heel, ready to tell their boss about this.


	2. Approaching Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an evening spent with your fiance, you're having a nightmare but Daimu's already there to protect you.

You heaved a heavy sigh as the door to the apartment you shared with Daimu closed behind you. Your cheeks heated up because of the warmth inside of your home compared to the chilly air outside. Just like he had promised you could already smell the distinct scent of your favorite dish.

Music was playing from the kitchen but you almost couldn’t make it out thanks to him belting the lyrics off-key and even without seeing him, you could vividly imagining him using one of the cooking spoons as a makeshift microphone.

It was times like these when you were glad that you had him to come home to, not only as a lover but as a friend. He hadn’t even realized you were here and yet he had managed to lift your spirits simply by being himself.

You slipped out of your shoes and stepped on tiptoes towards the kitchen, careful not to make a sound in order to not miss the sight you would see any second now.

Just like you had said, he was dancing around in the kitchen, the godawful apron, that you had gotten him as a gag gift but he had somehow taken a liking to, was tied around his waist, the cooking spoon in his hand and making some of the funniest expression you had ever seen.

As much as you had wanted to enjoy this carefree display a little bit longer, you just couldn’t keep your laughter in. The sound made him open his eyes, which seemed to get brighter the second he saw.

“Well, look at this brave warrior. Back from the battlefield,” he asked teasingly, hinting at his earlier message of you surviving the group of Exorcists that couldn’t leave you alone.

You rolled your eyes and punched him gently in his arm, which prompted him to go down on his knees in fake hurt. At his childishness, you shook your head but the smile imprinted on your lips made your true thoughts obvious.

You turned around on your heel, ready to get out of your clothes and into something truly comfortable but before you had been out of the doorway, Daimu had caught you by the elbow and pulled you back into him.

“Not so fast, love. You forgot something very important,” he said while pointing at the caption of the apron.

Printed under two cartoon frogs kissing each other was the phrase ‘Kiss the Cook’. Knowing full well how serious he was about this - you wouldn’t ever forget the one time you denied him the kiss and he in return denied you your food - and so you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your size and pressed your lips against his.

The years of having done this small affectionate action had giving it some sort of familiarity but it never ceased to get either of you excited.

You were the first to pull away, making him whine under his breath and pout slightly.

“Your water is boiling over,” you said, making him wipe around and rush to the pot, while calling you and it a traitor, before you left the kitchen, laughing all the way until the closing of the bedroom door drowned you out.

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful blur, making you temporarily forget about the dread of having to go to work tomorrow again.

But while spending time with Daimu made you put the fear behind you, the nightmare you were having that night only managed to put it to the front the more.

It was a recurring dream. You couldn’t count the times you had woken up, completely drenched in sweat, your whole body shivering.

You felt bad because without failure you shaken up state had managed to wake up Daimu every single time and yet you had never gotten around to tell him what terrified you so much that it kept you from sleeping.

Daimu was smart so he probably sill knew what was going on but you felt horrible for treating him this unfairly: he was losing important hours of sleep and he didn’t even know why. It was only thanks to his job allowing him to work from home and choosing his hours that it hadn’t started to affect him.

To make matters worse, you didn’t know why you weren’t just telling him. Every time you had this nightmare, it followed the same pattern.

You were in the small entry space of your apartment but for some reason it was cold and dark. It seemed abandoned and was voice its usual warmth. You couldn’t see anything in front of you and needed the physical reassurance of your hand on the wall to know when to turn which way.

Over the time you had started to realize how weird that was because even highly intoxicated or blindfolded, you still knew your way around it without any support; a clear benefit from living so long in this apartment and calling it your home.

However weird it was, it didn’t top what was happening next in your dream.

Your fingers touched something wet, making you flinch away from it and despite not seeing anything, you were still able to identify it as blood.  
Without needing to think about it any further, you bolted out of the hallway and headed for the door to your bedroom.

In reality, the distance of entrance to bedroom would be behind you in under ten seconds. The apartment wasn’t big but for whatever reason, you just didn’t seem to reach the handle to open the door.

Everything happened in slow motion until it shifted into fast forward and your weight crashed into the door. It opened under the pressure.

The room was illuminated by lightning, coming in through the windows. No matter how often you had this nightmare, you could always only focus on the first thing you saw. You were incapable of pulling your attention away from the thing you saw as soon as you entered the room.

Hung up above your bed and pinned to the wall like some sort of reverse Jesus was Daimu. His body was beaten up, blood dripping out of several wounds and running over his body. Unlike the savior of the Christian religion, his head wasn’t pointing to the sky but downwards, making the blood paint his neck and face in deep red as gravity worked its power.

Your mind always made you wake up at this time, sometimes in a verbal scream, sometimes in a silent one. But no matter what, Daimu was already awake, staring at you with tired and worried eyes but most importantly he was breathing and alive.

His arms welcomed you in a tight embrace which might have made you complain that it hurt but under these circumstances, you needed it. You needed to feel the strength from his arms and the hardness of his body against yours, anything to reassure you that he was in fact still with you.

His hand stroked over your hair while he rocked your bodies. You hadn’t fully realized when your body started to get wrecked by the sobs it was heaving, only noticed the wetness on his skin that unmistakably came from your tears.

He moved you two so that you were sitting on his lap while he was resting against the headboard. Your mind was a traitor, providing you with the thought that he was sitting right under the spot your nightmare had crucified him.

You shook your head against his neck to shake the image away. It was then that you took a glimpse of the digital clock on the nightstand. In ten minutes it would ring to wake you up for work.

You pushed yourself away from his body, feeling the reluctance of him wanting to let you go. His eyes searched for an answer on your face; he had long stopped asking for it verbally.

“I need to get ready-”

“Call in sick.”

You averted your eyes; it was almost painful to watch the worry on his face as to not knowing what was happening to you and not being able to protect you from it.

“I can’t, you know that.”

Anger flashed over his face before he got control of himself again and only nodded, accepting your decision.

“Alright. Promise me to tell me what you’re dreaming of one day, okay?”

“I will,” you replied before you went out of bed but a part of you knew that this was a lie. You wouldn’t tell him about the way he so cruelly died in your dreams and you also wouldn’t tell him who you thought did this to him.

Nothing in your nightmare pointed in their direction but you couldn’t help but feel that it was your mind’s way of telling you to be cautious of your stalkers at work.

It was a silly thought. There was no way, they could do this and your mind was just exaggerating your anxiety. That was all there was to it.

As usually, Daimu send you off at the door, him still being dressed in his sleep wear while you were in your office attire. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was seconds away from passing out and it made your heart swell to know that he was willing to still get up with you, just so he could spend a few more minutes with you.

“I’ll be back at my normal time.”

“Okay, be careful. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He bent down to kiss you. A peck was what you had expected but the way his lips were moving against yours, his hands keeping your face in place, made you absolutely breathless.

“Goodbye.”

“…bye.”

You turned around, waving at him until you disappeared into the elevator and ultimately shook off the thought that was appearing in your mind about how this had just felt a lot like this was the last time you had seen each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please consider checking out my Tumblr pages:  
> aonoscenarios.tumblr.com  
> diavenra-nesus.tumblr.com  
> fuckmotheringplotbunniesagain.tumblr.com


	3. Calling Of Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was true that these people had made you uncomfortable for a long time but you had no idea how deep their hatred ran.

When Aria entered the room, she ignored all of the hateful glares the others were throwing at her. She didn’t pay them any mind because they weren’t really directed at her but at the reason why she was already here.

“Careful, I might just get scared,” she said before she took a seat, preferring to lay more on it than actual sitting.

With her in the room were 5 more people. Two women and two men, all dressed in the uniform every Exorcist was required to wear. Each of them was seated on the round table in the middle of the office while the last of them was behind the massive desk, documents neatly placed in front her.

Aria knew if it was anyone else but Yoko Kobayashi, the piece of wood would seem to swallow their form but despite her being only 4'8" and therefore hardly being able to look over the surface of the desk when she’s standing behind it, she somehow managed to still intimidate everyone.

Another proof of that was that the others were looking at her with something equal to murderous intent and she didn’t feel anything but when Yoko was focusing her attention on her, the face drawn in the ever prominent blank, and only raised an eyebrow at her slouched form, Aria already felt dread settle into the pit of her stomach and hurried to sit properly.

“I believe you owe us an explanation, Hoshi-san. Don’t you agree?”

Aria cleared her voice before she answered, “Of course, Kobayoshi-sama. (Y/n) (L/n)-sama left her workplace earlier than usual. I stayed with her until she entered her apartment.”

“Did she notice you’re following her?”

If anyone else had asked her that, she would’ve scoffed and probably also gotten violent with them but she had long learned lesson to never do that with Yoko, and so she only shook her head.

“Of course not.”

“So she’s with that bastard now?”

Aria turned her head to her left seatmate and came to face with Makoto Yamada. He was a bulky man, his muscles straining the uniforms’ fabric to its limit and at first, she had found it incredibly funny that such a testosterone oozing man was given a name that was usually intended for girls.

“That she is.”

Makoto’s fist slammed down on the table, making the piece of furniture shake dangerously. He quickly stood up, his chair falling off and colliding with the floor.

“When are we finally doing something against him? I’m getting sick just thinking what that Daimu Honda is doing to her behind closed doors.”

He was flailing around his arms, showing his anger and trying to get everyone else to agree with him and support him.

They, however, rarely did and this was no exception. Makoto had never made a secret out of his hatred for half-demons but since his plans were way too over the top and not practical enough to even attempt to pull through, which is why he was so often ignored.

“Please, sit down again, Yamada-san. There’s no need to be hostile with us. We are your allies, not your opponent, after all.”

It would almost be comical seeing such a tall and strong men first challenge but then quickly submit to such a small and petite woman, if it wasn’t for the numerous this had already happened.

He swore under his breath while he picked up his chair and sat down again.

“Now, I understand where you are coming from and I too would like to finally jump into action instead of waiting for the right moment to come. I can only ask of you to be patient because we are close to make our first move.

(Y/n) (L/n)-sama is not just a mere human, she is so much more than that and deserve to be treated as such, don’t forget that. We cannot just force her, she has to come to us willingly and with every intention.

You already narrowed down the chances of that happening because you were stalking her instead of simply watching over her. That is why we cannot allow any mistakes from here on.”

Yoko stood up from her seat, temporarily disappearing behind the desk before she came to a stop in front of it.

“I hope I do not have to remind you that I will not be disobeyed, is that clear?”

She looked at each of them but no one dared to meet her eyes and instead kept their head lowered.

“Yes, Kobayoshi-sama,” they answered in unison.

A small smile appeared on her face at their display of knowing their place before it shifted into the blank expression she wore most of the time.

“Good, you’re all dismissed. Yamada-san and Hoshi-san, you do the first shift tomorrow. Get (L/n)-sama safe to work without her noticing any of you.”

She nodded one more time, showing them their key to leave. Yoko waited for the last one to close the door behind himself before she went back to her work.

Outside of her office, Makoto trailed behind to walk at the same pace as Aria without raising any suspicion. It was only when everyone else had left them and they were out of ear shot from Yoko that he touched her elbow gently, getting her attention.

“We need to get rid of him.”

Aria stared incredulously at him, confusion written all over her face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Daimu Honda, this is the last time he defiled her.”

She couldn’t recall having ever seen such hatred in his eyes but she only raised her eyebrows before replying to him.

“How?”

She wore a generally bored expression while she was waiting for him to answer her. It wasn’t that she didn’t agree with him.

In fact, she couldn’t count the days she had to swallow her pride when the bastard was dropping her off and being overly sweet with her, showing too much affection than was respected in public, or the times she had wanted to be the one she came home to, showing her how a real human could treat her better.

But Makoto’s plans were wishful thinking at best. The daydreams one would have when they wanted to get their revenge but which one would never do in real life because self-preservation would keep them from doing something stupid.

Aria was well prepared to shoot him down and was just waiting for him to prove her correct and dish her another fantasy.

“You’re off after the shift tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“We kill him, take the body with us and make it look like he was abducted and murdered somewhere else. No one will know it was us. What do you say?”

Aria nodded. Naturally, the plan was half-assed at best but she had done more than enough missions of that caliber on her own to be confident enough that with her being there, he couldn’t screw it up too much and get them into trouble.

“What about Kobayoshi-sama, though?”

Makoto scoffed. “Yoko? That dwarf of a woman is pathetic. She’s too scared to do anything about that lowlife, so we have to do it instead.”

Aria shrugged. If she was honest with herself, he played perfectly into one of her theories. Yoko’s behavior had gotten quite a bit weird. It was like she was desperate to not interact under any circumstances.

“So, it’s just going to be the two of us? None of the others are gonna be involved?”

“Takahashi is gonna be with us, too. He’s been itching to get his fingers on that bastard ever since he found out he’s boning (L/n).”

“If (L/n) is sticking to her usual schedule, we have 6 hours between her arriving and us finishing the shift.”

“That we do. Don’t sweat too much over the details, Aria. We just go with the flow and everything will turn out to be alright.”

Makoto smiled at her, trying to convince her of his cause and reason but only managed to make her sigh and look at him unimpressed.

“Because I’m gonna make sure of it. Not because of anything else, Yamada. Be sure to have a clean up team at our disposal, people that won’t talk. No way are we gonna have enough time to get rid of Daimu Honda *and* clean up ourselves.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He put his hand to his head in a mock salute.

“And never call me by my first name ever again, Yamada. It will always be Hoshi-san for you, never something else.”

“No need to be so cold, Hoshi-san,” he scoffed.“Also, you better tell me before tomorrow if Yamaro is coming with us or not. I want a real plan by tomorrow."With this Aria turned around, leaving him alone. He watched as she walked down the hallway away from him, shaking his head at her behavior.Makoto continued to watch her, his eyes laying on the movement of her ass as she walked until she disappeared behind the wall and he took his leave, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please consider checking out my Tumblr pages:  
> aonoscenarios.tumblr.com  
> diavenra-nesus.tumblr.com  
> fuckmotheringplotbunniesagain.tumblr.com


	4. Confusing Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your body is warning you of something but you, thinking it is simply anxiety, pay no mind to it.

Your work mostly consisted of things one could find at any regular office job, aside from the constant need for holy water and summoning paper, or having to write the occasional letter to one of the deceased Exorcist’s family, saying how sorry you all were for their loss and claiming how brave their child/partner/parent had been while working for them.

In the beginning, it had bored you because it was such an extreme shift from what you were used to as an Exorcist. While on the field, you had to be on constant alert, given that even the smallest mistake could come around to bite your ass and turn out to be fatal for either you or someone with you on the mission.

As an off-duty worker, that was the very thing you didn’t had to do. Yes, you still had to pay attention to avoid mistakes but even if you messed something up, the worst thing that could happen was that you had ordered too many plants for the Doctors or something of the like; no lives were on the line, at least not directly.

After you had gotten over your dislike for the job, you had actually started to find some sort of comfort to not have so much pressure on your shoulders. Some people thrived under the knowledge that other’s lives depended on them but you had never belonged to these kind of human.

You had liked the aspect of protecting others, seeing that the wounds you received were a willing price for you to pay once you saw the relief on the faces of those you had managed to rescue. But it would be foolish of you to say that your anxiety hadn’t risen and your heart hadn’t jumped into your throat whenever someone mentioned that if you made a mistake here, people would die.

The work in the office had lifted that pressure from you while allowing you to dive further into the contact with civilians. You were one of the first, they would come to when they had any kind of question and often were able to calm them down enough to keep them from doing anything irrational and reckless.

It was easy to focus on your tasks, especially after coming face to face with the weight of your results and so the boredom vanished and in its stead appeared passion for the job. You liked working this way and were able to pay attention to it without having to break your head over the majority of your decisions.

Today, however, that didn’t seem to work at all.

Thanks to your anxiety and the total metaphorical demons living in your head, you were no strangers to over thinking and being afraid of certain outcomes, only to push through the situation and realizing how awfully ridiculous your behavior had been.

For some reason, your thoughts were constantly slipping away from you and you were shivering from head to toe, something you had done the last time when you had thought you were seconds away from being eaten by an upper-class demon. It was your body’s way of telling you that you were in immediate danger.

This would be completely understandable if it wasn’t for the fact that your emotional state didn’t align with what your eyes were seeing.

You were standing in front of the coffee maker in the kitchen of the office complex, waiting for it to brew the next cup for you and some of your colleagues. The greatest ‘danger’ that could befall you here were some minor burns that could easily be treated by cooling it with water, and unless you had somehow grown a condition that might such wounds fatal for you, there was really no reason for you to act like this.

Unfortunately, as much as you agreed with that logic, that didn’t mean that you suddenly stopped being afraid or your body ceased reacting this way. If you had learned one thing while living with anxiety, then it was that it gave a rat’s ass about whether or not something was logical. You were anxious, you were afraid and that was it. End of story. Go ahead and deal with it.

The beeping of the machine got you out of your trance and you filled the necessary cups with the hot beverage. You focused all of your attention on this simple task, just so the voice in your head would stop its nagging. There was no way, you would give in to this stupid fear, just to have it turn out to be nothing again.

You took the cups with you and brought them to the people that had asked you for a refill once you had announced that you were making coffee for yourself, making sure to give each of them an extra big smile so that they would not get suspicious.

Everything is okay; that was the thought that was constantly running through your mind as you ignored one of the first lessons you had learned at an on-duty Exorcist – always trust your instincts.

It wouldn’t be the first time you gut tried to convince you of something and your head of something else completely. For some reason, you were more likely to listen to the logic part of you instead of your instincts, which had often gotten you in nasty and ugly situations so at one point, you had trained yourself to listen to your gut rather than your head and this far it had never disappointed you or wronged you.

Therefore, it would seem idiotic to listen to your head now when your whole body was trying to tell you something else but you did it, and soon you would find out that this would be your downfall.

You sat down at your desk again, taking a sip from your cup and successfully burning your lip by doing so. Being too busy swearing under your breath and looking for something to ease the burn, you didn’t notice that for a few minutes there was no one watching you.

Ever since, they had put their attention on you and made an effort to always be around you, they had never missed an opportunity to do so. If you would have seen this, it would have immediately sparked your suspicion and would have made you wonder why this was the case.

But the reason for it would be something that would never cross your mind, no matter how anxious you were.

It wouldn’t be long until the others for the second shift would arrive and given that you would spend the rest of your time locked inside your office, fighting to get some work done while also trying to drown out the voices, Aria and Makoto had made their retreat.

True to that, only a few moments after they had left the room, Lyle and Yumi had come into their sight, ready to begin their shift. They exchanged a few words as they met in the hallway before each of them went their way.

The first shift had went without a hassle and while Yoko had told them again and again to always have their full attention on (Y/n) (L/n), it was only natural that they wouldn’t be too keen to follow up at one point.

Her day was the same ever since they started the act of shadowing and protecting her. There was rarely anything surprising happening in her life and given that they had nothing else to do but to watch her, they were quick to distract themselves in some way. Never enough that anything could happen to her but enough so that a few minutes didn’t feel like several hours.

It was safe to assume that they had done pretty much everything by now, from small talk to playing cards or inventing new games, they had done it but something that had indeed been new for them was to discuss someone else’s death while they watched (Y/n) go on about her day.

Takahashi had reacted with a slight discomfort at that but Aria made sure he understood that she didn’t want any mistakes to happen. They all agreed that Daimu Honda needed to disappear and stop to leave his filthy fingerprints on (Y/n) but they agreed on something else: under no circumstance must Yoko find out that it was them that had done such a thing.

Their shadowing was limited to (Y/n), and (Y/n) only, so it wouldn’t be too weird if no one had a clue what would happen to her fiancé. Makoto had made sure that the members of the cleanup crew they would later need, all wouldn’t dare to open their mouth about the things they were about to witness. Part of them were too corrupt to even think about and the others were simply blackmailed by him, so there was really no reason that Yoko would ever find something out.

The three Exorcists exchanged a look, silently asking if each of them knew what they would need to do now, before they nodded and left the room at different times; again, done all for the sake of not raising any suspicion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please consider checking out my Tumblr pages:  
> aonoscenarios.tumblr.com  
> diavenra-nesus.tumblr.com  
> fuckmotheringplotbunniesagain.tumblr.com


	5. Beginning Of The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attackers strike.

Daimu had not only the benefit of choosing his own hours to work but also had he been able to follow his dream by doing so. For as long you could remember, he had been writing, developing stories. It had started as a hobby at first, something he did to collect his thoughts and take control over his emotions but it became obvious over the time that it was much more than that.

He had a talent for bringing characters to life and wrapping them up in events that had the reader on edge. It was safe to say that one of the reasons he enjoyed writing so much was for your reaction. You were a very emotional reader, always relating to the characters a little too much and feeling too much for them.

He still had to chuckle about the one time he gave you the first draft to read and the cliffhanger was so cruel to you that it made you throw the story away from you and punish him with silent treatment for the rest of the day.

Although, something he really didn’t like was how wavering his muse constantly seemed to be. Writing was something that almost everyone did for the majority of their lives so to think that creative writing can’t be too hard wasn’t too far off.

And yet, they were horribly wrong. Writing without having the inspiration or motivation to do so was a dreading task and more often than not the story would suffer greatly under forced writing.

Daimu heaved a heavy sigh and rolled away from the desk. He stood up and closed the laptop, relieved that the blinking cursor on the open but otherwise empty document couldn’t mock him anymore.

He stretched his arms over his head, groaning slightly as he heard the bones in his back and neck crack noisily. Only now did he realize just how tired he was and despite not having been up for so long, he would love to lie down again.

In times like these, he wished there was a way for him to just transfer his thoughts without having to pick up a pen or type out the words on a keyboard. The imagines of what was supposed to happen next were all in his mind with annoyingly clear detail but he just couldn’t bring himself to write them down, almost as if there was a wall stopping him.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do about it for now, he decided that it would be best for him to take a break. Daimu got up and left the room that functioned as his office and reading room for (Y/n). He headed for the kitchen, deeming himself to be in dire need of a strong coffee.

Unbeknownst to him, this was the sign Aria had been waiting for to enter the apartment. Their home had been mostly renovated, changing the old windows for newer more secure ones. The only that hadn’t been rebuild yet was the office.

Naturally, she would have also been able to enter through the other windows but this one was so much easier. Instead of having to cut through the glass, and leaving obvious evidence her break-in behind, she simply had to lever it; made little to no sound and left no clear proof of her having been there.

She opened the window, after having attacked it at three points, and climbed into the room. They had chosen Takahashi to be the decoy for their plan, given that Aria was the only one small enough to enter through the window and Makoto was way too big and intimidating for anyone to trust him or be kind to.

Just like they had planned, Takahashi rang the bell and Daimu stopped in the midst of his task, leaving the kitchen to open the door. He would come up with some story, something he needed help with and wrap him up in some story to given Aria enough time to sneak up on him.

Not a second too early, the conversation ran thin and Daimu went to wrap it up so that he could close the door again and go back to things that were more pleasant than social interactions.

But in the moment he tried to say his goodbyes and made an attempt to shut the door, Takahashi moved his hand between it, stopping him successfully, and Aria appeared behind him, gun cocked at his head.

The grip Daimu had on the handle slackened significantly, allowing Takahashi to open the door again and give sights on Makoto who had moved from his hiding space as he realized that his time had come to do so.

Any words he could have said were stuck in his throat as he came to acknowledge what mess was waiting for him. He raise his arms and walked back into the apartment, letting Takahashi and Makoto like the first had demanded he would do before he tried to get rid of him.

“Who are you people?”

There was nothing insulting about that sentence, there was nothing challenging in his tone that would explain Makoto’s outburst but for some reason, his words prompted him to draw his arm back, bend his fingers into a fist and slam it back into Daimu’s face, his knuckles connecting with his jaw, making his head snap back by the sheer force of his punch and hit the wall behind him.

The pain was dull at first but was quickly growing in intensity. His head was swimming and spots started to appear in his vision. It was hard to focus on anything but even in this state, he was capable to detect the hatred that was dripping from Makoto’s words as he replied to him.

“Who told you to speak, mud blood,” he spat and if Daimu had been in any other circumstances, he might have laughed about the Harry Potter reference the man before him had probably no intention of making but he knew that if he wanted to make it out alive, it wouldn’t be good to make it appear as if he was making fun of them.

“How much time do we have left,” Takahashi asked, making Aria look on her watch before she answered him.

“Roughly three hours.”

“We need to hurry then, ” Aria said, “Prepare him; blindfold, gag, the whole thing. We don’t want anyone to know what is happening in here.”

“Would it not be wiser to change the location? We can take our time with him somewhere else,” Takahashi voiced his concern but Makoto only scoffed.

“Oh, please. I don’t wanna spend more time than necessary with this filthy half-demon.”

Daimu felt his shoulders drop. He had hoped that it would be something, maybe just a simply robbery or something of the like; anything that would indicate that it was not again about his goddamn heritage. He couldn’t count the times people had ridiculed him or thought it was okay to rip him away from his rights just because one of his parents had been possessed by a demon upon conceiving. They seemed to think that it was somehow his mistake too – probably for not having died already – and he was just so tired of it.

“Plus, we don’t want the cleanup crew to come here and not have any work to do. We already paid them, after all.”

“Then hurry up, Makoto. It was your plan, so do execute it now.”

As soon as Aria had said those words, there was a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes and Daimu couldn’t help but feel that this would turn out like all the other incidents he had with Exorcists.

He was lifted on a chair in the living room – (Y/n)’s favorite chair, some part of his brain noticed – and quickly tied to it. A gag was placed in his mouth but Makoto stopped before he could blindfold him, playing with the fabric he intended to use.

“Hey, wouldn’t it be more fun if he could see everything? Must be horrible to know what is coming your way but have no chance to defend yourself against it, hm,” he mused while getting up close in Daimu’s face.

Aria only rolled with her eyes, “Don’t play too much. We can’t get behind schedule.”

Makoto’s teasing smile slipped from his face and was replaced by a blank expression. “As you wish, Hoshi-san.”

The blindfold was placed over his eyes and Makoto turned around to kill him off quickly but was interrupted as they all heard a key being inserted in the lock. The Exorcists shared a look before they made quick work on Daimu.

Thankfully to their luck, the person outside of the door was having trouble with something, evident through the cursing they did, and thus gave them enough time to disappear with their hostage.

The door opened and in moved the person, looking confused as to find the apartment empty but didn’t pay any mind to it as nothing looked out of the ordinary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please consider checking out my Tumblr pages:  
> aonoscenarios.tumblr.com  
> diavenra-nesus.tumblr.com  
> fuckmotheringplotbunniesagain.tumblr.com


	6. Instincts over Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daimu had always been afraid of you getting hurt on the battlefield while he was at home, writing away. Life proves to have a disgusting sense of irony.

One of the things that had stood out with Daimu no matter how long you‘ve stayed with him was that he was a person of habit. He had no ill thoughts of change but he preferred certain things to go the way they had always had. To some that may have seemed boring but to you it had been the greatest reassurance; it made him incredibly reliable.

The stranger it seemed that his texts were missing through out your work day. You checked your phone for the umpteenth time, seeing the small word below each of your texts and next to the time stamp, showing you that his lack of response wasn‘t due to your messages not getting through. They had been delivered but for some reason, he hadn‘t read them yet.

Of course, there could be several reasons as to why he hadn‘t done that. He could be asleep, working creatively always drained him quickly, or he could be out for a walk, trying to get around writer‘s block and had simply left his phone at home.

It could have several reasons but you couldn‘t shake off the feeling that something had went terribly wrong. It was irritating you because you couldn‘t draw a logically reason to explain why you were feeling this way, labeling it simply as you being fearful. You were living with anxiety so it really wasn‘t that out of the ordinary but it didn‘t cease to annoy you.

You were pocketing your phone again, putting any worry for Daimu to the back of your mind and turning back to your computer to continue your work.

Usually you had busy days, almost up to the point where you had to set yourself an alarm in order not to miss your break but as luck would have it, this was not the case on the one day you wanted and needed to distract yourself. It was such a slow day that after not even a full hour since checking your phone for the last time, your superior came around, giving you the rest of the day off. Under different circumstances you would have welcomed it with open arms but over the time the anxiety had grown and suddenly going home seemed like a very bad idea.

You sighed outwardly, prepping yourself mentally and collecting your things before making your leave and entering the elevator to take you downstairs. The doors were already closing when you heard someone yelling to halt them. Your hand shot forward before you had processed the task fully and a moment later Shura slipped through them, grinning at you.

“Thanks, (Y/n).“

“No problem. You‘re heading out for your next mission,“ you asked, glancing at her uniform.

She groaned before shaking her head. “God, no. Just came back from one. Mephisto can get off my back for a while.“

You chuckled. Shura and you had met when you were still an Exorcist in training and after bonding over drinks post-mission, you had been inseparable. She had been one of your big cons when you were contemplating about whether or not to stop going to missions. There was something uniquely about a friendship being formed between multiple death threats.

“What about you? Going home to your lover boy?“ She wiggled her eyebrows, making you laugh and easing some of your tension.

“Yeah.“

You had hoped that she wouldn‘t notice anything different which may have been the case if she was anyone but Shura.

“Something the matter?“

“No. Maybe. I don‘t know?“

She raised her eyebrow skeptically but didn‘t further comment on it.

“It‘s probably just my anxiety. I feel like something bad is approaching.“

Shura hummed in understanding. “But don‘t forget that under that anxiety are also your instincts and I know for a fact that they‘ve never been wrong.“ She boxed gently against your shoulder, smirking at you. In all the times you had worked together on missions, the accuracy of your instincts had been a running gag, some even claiming that you had a second career in fortune telling.

“I‘m sure it‘s nothing but if anything happens, you can always call me. You know that, right, (Y/n)?“

“Sure. But like you said it‘s probably nothing.“

The elevator announced your level and the doors opened. You said your goodbyes to Shura, holding her look for a moment before you both parted. On the whole way home, your anxiety increased in intensity again, almost as if the relaxing moments with Shura had never happened.

“Daimu? I‘m home,“ you called into the apartment once you had closed the door behind you but just as you had predicted, what with all the absence today, no reply came and at first you simply thought of making yourself comfortable. You didn‘t want to be the kind of person that couldn‘t survive without their partner and as far as he knew, you wouldn‘t be home for another two hours, he could have met up with an old friend or something.

Two hours quickly passed and turned into several more. The sky outside had long turned into a pitch black, alarming the world of the fast approaching night. Any thought of comfort and being ‚a cool fiancé‘ had long left your mind; you were panicking.

There had been a chance that he would have simply gone out and not told you about it as long as you were at work. He had done it before but as soon as that time had passed, he would immediately tell you about it. Daimu wasn‘t the only protective person in this relation and you were both aware of it so in order to worry each other, you took the teasing jabs from your friends and kept each other updated.

But when no text came, even after all these hours, you began to call his friends and colleagues, trying to get a hold on him. With that in mind, you entered his office. That was something you never did unless he was there too because it was sacred to him and even the slightest change from his estimated order could rub him in the wrong way, blocking his creative juices.

To any outsider, there was nothing wrong but your guts told you that something was off. You couldn‘t quiet put your finger on it but something drew you to his desk. You hit a few keys on the laptop, prompting it back to live and making it show you what Daimu had used last. His writing program was open, only a few paragraphs written but was really made you skeptical was the fact that it was still an unsaved document - now, that was something that would never happen. He was critical about saving his work multiple times even if he had only written two more words; he would always save it.

Your stomach tightened and nausea hit you so badly that you had to brace yourself against the next best object which was the window directly above the desk. It had always been jammed so while it opened to the outside, you didn‘t think any of it. Only that this time, it immediately opened under your pressure. No creaking, no violent force to get it to open up, it just bent to your will as if it hadn‘t brought you trouble over several years.

A tear escaped your eye before you could stop it. That was all the proof you needed but you knew that this would never be taken up as an official case. There was no clear evident that anything had happened and if you were to go to the police that would simply wave you off, claiming that Daimu had probably repaired the window without telling you.

Doubt and hope crept into your mind, grasping onto anything in order to not face what was the truth. Maybe he really had repaired it, despite having absolutely no skills to perform such an act, maybe he was staying out late and had forgotten to call you, maybe it was just your anxiety talking, maybe-

Shura‘s sentence replayed in your head. ‘Your instincts have never been wrong.’, quickly followed by ‘call me‘. Your hand pressed your phone against your ear before you had consciously thought about doing just that.

The phone rang a few times before she picked up. Her voice was normally either cheery or grumbling when answering a call, depending on when someone called and who they were to her but with their conversation earlier in mind, she was immediately serious.

“(Y/n)? What‘s wrong? Talk to me.“

“He‘s not here. I‘ve been wai-“ A sob broke out from your throat. „I‘ve been waiting the whole time but he‘s… Oh God…“

“Calm breaths, (Y/n). I‘ll be with you in a couple minutes. Don‘t touch anything. I‘ll have a team with me.“

Mindlessly, you nodded, forgetting that she couldn‘t see it and even after she had long hung up, you couldn‘t bring yourself to end the call; you were too caught up with keeping yourself on your feet


	7. Dirty Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could anyone hate someone so much for such a weak reason?

You didn’t know how much time had passed since the call and Shura and the team arriving at your place. It could’ve been mere minutes or hours; it didn’t matter. Once the realization that Daimu, your Daimu, was honest to goodness missing, you had fallen into yourself, not really responding to anything at all.

Shura knew where your second key was being hid in case one of you would lock themselves out, and so she easily managed to get inside. You heard her say something to you, felt her shake your shoulder slightly when you didn’t reply.

Then there was silence for a moment until she gave others to the others that had come with her, telling them to find things that would give a clue as to where your fiance was.

You were well aware that this was necessary and somewhere inside you, you were thankful for their help because you would be of no help right now. Words couldn’t describe just how worried you were, none of their definition came close to accurately portraying your feelings.

The only thing you could think about was related to Daimu’s wellbeing and whereabouts, pulsating through you like your heartbeat while being unable to fill your lungs with oxygen. No sound came to your ears because any other thought or function was irrelevant when faced with this: he was the most important.

So getting yourself help was a very smart decision, especially given your circumstances, but while it was that, you hated it with every fiber.

This place wasn’t just your and Daimu’s apartment; it was your home.

This was the place you two would always return to when you had a rough day. The place you had built so many memories in, all going from the fights, to the holidays, to the lovemaking, to the talks about your united feature all leading up to possibly the happiest thing that had happened in here: the engagement.

Despite how often he wrote about the grand gestures of love in his books and head his character perform the cheesiest acts to get their personal The One to be with them - “It’s what the readers dig (Y/n)!” -, he wasn’t the type to them in his private life. He hadn’t been when asking you out for the first time, or telling you he loved you so when he was popping the question, it was no different.

You had often talked about how you would paint the future you had with each other but for the longest time marriage wasn’t really on the plan. It was something you liked to talk about when you were lying it bed but it never lost its tone of ‘somewhere in the far off future’ until it did.

It had happened while you were having a Star Wars marathon, deciding to watch all the movies to get the material back in your head now that a new one was coming into the cinemas soon. You were cuddling, the empty pizza box long forgotten on the coffee table in front of you. The scene of Anakin fighting against his former mentor was on the screen when he asked.

“Will you marry me?”

You didn’t avert your eyes from the screen, “You know I would.”  
Daimu changed his position, facing you with his whole body now, and that got your attention. You straightened up to and mirrored his seating.

“No, I mean. Will you marry me?”

There was a moment in which neither of you said anything, only stared into each other’s eyes; Daimu to get you to understand and you in confusion.  
It took you a bit but after a bit you got what he was going on about.

“Oh.”

He scoffed, leave it to you to give that as a reply to being proposed.

“Yeah, oh,” he laughed.

“What, that’s it? I don’t get a mosh pit or a whole parade dedicated to me?”

“Do you _want _that”, he asked incredulous and now it was your turn to laugh.__

__“Nope, but a ring would be nice,” you mused._ _

__“Gotcha,” Daimu said and jumped over the cushion of the couch._ _

__He disappeared into your joined bedroom and started to rummage in there until he let out a victorious cry._ _

__He came back and held a velvet box in his hand, shaking it slightly to get your focus on it._ _

__“I’m well prepared, my love.”_ _

__“Then go ahead, claim me,” you joked, outstretching your arm in a dramatic pose._ _

__“Can you be serious for once?”_ _

__“With you? Never.”_ _

__“Can you pretend to be?”_ _

__“That I can try”_ _

__Daimu raised his eyebrow and looked at you skeptically for another second before he went down on one knee._ _

__“(Y/n) (L/n), will you do me the honors of marrying me?”_ _

__“Yes”_ _

__Both of you knew that you would be marrying each other at one point, there was no way around it but still having actually done it, put a big smile on your face and._ _

__Daimu put the ring on your finger and you kissed just as Obi-Wan left Anakin to die, sealing off the start of your engagement._ _

__This was your place, your home and having strangers inside here, searching every nook and cranny really pissed you off._ _

__Someone sat down beside you on the couch, putting a hand on you. They probably meant it as a reassurance for you but it only made you tense and angry._ _

__You glanced at the person and recognized her as Aria, someone you had seen many times in the office despite her being an active Exorcist. Next to her was Makoto, watching over you two._ _

__“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said and with that sentence alone, you knew that you hated her._ _

__“He’s not _dead_ ,” you replied in an icy voice and scooted away from her.__

____Aria looked surprised before she got a handle on herself again._ _ _ _

____“Of course, we hope he’s not-”_ _ _ _

____“He is. Not. Dead.”_ _ _ _

____The mood suddenly shifted and Makoto sneered before saying, “You never know.”_ _ _ _

____“I’m _sorry_?”___ _

______“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Aria said but neither you nor Makoto paid her any attention and instead were staring at each other._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What do you mean by that?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You shouldn’t worry about your boyfriend. You’re a pure-blood, you’ll find someone who suits you better.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Anger boiled inside you and it was by pure luck that you managed to refrain yourself from attacking him._ _ _ _ _ _

______How dare he?!_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Daimu is my fiance and he will be my husband. And his blood heritage has nothing to do with it, asshole.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Makoto grinned at the knowledge of being responsible for making you lose your cool._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He’s scum. People like him shouldn’t be alive, you’re better off without him.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______You leveled him with a death glare and gripped the cushion of the couch tightly while you tried to swallow the murderous intent you were feeling for him._ _ _ _ _ _

______He had no idea what he was talking about and you wanted to teach him a lesson so badly._ _ _ _ _ _

______You wanted to give in but even in your anger, you knew that it would only bring you more problems. Someone like Makoto didn’t deserve for you to give up your time with Daimu._ _ _ _ _ _

______You abruptly stood up, holding eye contact with him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I need some fresh air,” you said and with that you rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind you and ignoring the confused voices from inside._ _ _ _ _ _

______The cold air of the early morning hit you in the face and you already felt more relax. You weren’t over the audacity of Makoto by any means but you didn’t feel like suffocating anymore._ _ _ _ _ _

______You lightened a cigarette and took a drag from it. The door to the apartment complex opened again and out came Shura._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I thought you stopped.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“And I thought you’d be busy with looking for Daimu.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______You hadn’t lost your icy tone yet so Shura raised her eyebrow, knowing that you were not using this voice with her usually._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That’s why I’m here. This might take longer than we expected so it would be best for you to take some things and go somewhere else. You can stay at my place if you want to.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______You scoffed, “Thanks but I pass. I am still traumatized from the last time.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Shura rolled her eyes. “You’re sure? Where you’ll be staying at?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’ll find some place. I kinda don’t wanna see anyone so… But thanks for the offer.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“No problem. If you need help with anything, just give me a call. Okay?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Of course, stop worrying about me. I’ll be up in a few minutes,” you said, flicking your cigarette._ _ _ _ _ _

______She turned back around and only when she was truly back inside were you able to relax again._ _ _ _ _ _

______You wanted to trust Shura’s team but what Makoto had said woke you up and made you realize something. He surely wasn’t the only one that thought this way and what if there were people with such a state of mind on the team that was investigating the case? They would never do a good job and the chances of you and Daimu being reunited were non-existent._ _ _ _ _ _

______That’s why you had to decline her offer. You would find him, alive and well, and no hatred for blood heritage would stop you from it._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please consider checking out my Tumblr pages:  
> fuckmotheringfandomsagain.tumblr.com  
> diavenra-nesus.tumblr.com  
> fuckmotheringplotbunniesagain.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please consider checking out my Tumblr pages:  
> aonoscenarios.tumblr.com  
> diavenra-nesus.tumblr.com  
> fuckmotheringplotbunniesagain.tumblr.com


End file.
